That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King’s Slave Mate Novel

Chapter 558: "Get the buckets! She's vomiting again," a soldier barked from his post by the door.

The clatter of hurried footsteps came, followed by the groaning creak of metal gates opening and slamming shut.

Sinai barely registered the commotion, rocking back and forth uncomfortably, so focused on the pain. The sensation of her insides tearing apart.

Her hands clutched her abdomen as she retched again, heaving violently until there was nothing left to expel. Then, she slumped forward. Her vision swam, her breathing loud. How long has it been? Hours? Days?

Sinai had no concept of time anymore. Her torture stretched endlessly. Weakly, she crawled away from the crimson pool she had created, her fingers smearing the slick blood across the stone as she dragged herself to a corner.

Collapsing against the wall, she drew her legs up, wrapping her arms around them in a feeble attempt to shield herself from the cold.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, her stomach churning violently.

Her skin felt tight, stretched to its breaking point, as if her body might burst from the inside. Every nerve screamed in protest, her muscles aching with intensity. All because her master had not fed from her for weeks.

She had been told that a quick, controlled drain of excess blood would ease her discomfort, but Sinai had been denied that relief.

"My Daemon is being so cruel," she thought bitterly, "so monstrous, punishing me in this way."

"How could you do this to me?" she cried under her breath, tears streaming down her face.

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The filthy humans cleaning the mess she had made were watching her. She glared at them, disgust and rage coiling in her chest.

"I want to kill them all."

Her nails dug into her thighs as the pressure inside her rose again. These worthless humans… Why must I suffer this way because of one of them?

The pain intensified, her veins pulsing as though they might burst.

"No, no, no," Sinai whispered, pressing her hands to her ears, rocking harder. "It's not real. It's all in your head, Sinai. Your skin is not stretching. Your blood vessels are not swelling. It's all in your head, it's not real. It's not real!"

But it was no use. The nausea rose again, unstoppable, like a blazing storm. With a deep, desperate moan, Sinai doubled over once more. Blood surged from her mouth in a violent stream, splattering across the floor and walls, painting the cell in her suffering.

Her body shook uncontrollably, her screams muffled by the sound of her retching.

Oh, goddess, the pain was too much. Too much…

Her vision tunneled as she fainted, losing consciousness.

PRINCESS EMERIEL

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